


it isn't so bad (it's driving you mad)

by plalligator



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Comedy of Errors, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Oh No He's Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/pseuds/plalligator
Summary: Callum gets hot. Soren gets a clue.





	it isn't so bad (it's driving you mad)

**Author's Note:**

> set *handwave* number of years post-canon, when xadia and katolis are at peace and are in the practice of exchanging ambassadors

“Oh, this is going to be so funny,” Soren said in a low voice to Claudia. They were standing at attention in the grand hall, awaiting the arrival of the diplomatic delegation from Xadia. These kind of events were usually about three hours too long and required everybody to be in full ceremonial armor, so Soren had to make his own amusement. Usually he relied on the crown prince pranking an unsuspecting courtier halfway through the ceremony and the inevitable hilarity and chaos that would bring, but this afternoon was looking to be more entertaining than usual, because Prince Callum was returning from his ambassadorial posting in Xadia. 

“Can you believe it?” he continued. “Step-prince coming back!” He let out a soft snort through his nose. “He’s probably a super nerd now.” It was commonly known that Prince Callum had spent his years in Xadia studying the arcane secrets of elven magic or whatever. 

Claudia gave him a narrow look. 

“He’s gotten to study magical practices no human has seen for hundreds of years,” she hissed back. “Does that seem at  _ all _ important to you?” She clenched her hands into fists, black lacquered nails digging into her palms. “Ughhh, I can’t  _ wait _ to pick his brain.”

As unobtrusively as possible, Soren took a half step away away from Claudia. Knowing his sister, she might mean that literally. He had to shake away visions of step-prince’s head in a jar. 

The distant sound of commotion alerted him that the procession was finally nearing the great hall, and he hastily snapped to attention and tried to look serious and imposing. 

“His Royal Highness Prince Callum of Katolis,” announced the herald at the far end of the hall, then followed up with the names and titles of half a dozen elven dignitaries that Soren didn’t bother to remember. 

The great hall being the size that it was, it took a good minute or two for the party to make their way down the wide ride carpet to the dais, especially at the ponderously slow pace they were going. Why did everyone walk so slowly at these things? Didn’t they have anywhere better to be?

Soren squinted, trying to pick out step-prince, but couldn’t make him out. That was weird, because there were only a couple humans, and none of them looked like Prince Callum. Most of the party were clearly moonshadow elves, their white hair marking them out, and the rest were dark-skinned sunbright elves. That left the human at the front of the group: tall and lithe, he wore his dark hair long, like an elf, and walked with a rolling grace. Soren frowned. Who was this clown, to take the place of honor at the front? Where was Prince Callum? 

As the group approached the dais, Soren glared at the unknown man. He was wearing a tunic of red and gold, the colors of the royal family, which he should  _ definitely _ not be doing. Soren shot a glance over at King Harrow and Prince Ezran, but neither of them seemed to notice a thing. The crown prince was badly containing his excitement, bouncing ever so slightly up and down on his toes. It looked like Rayla, beside him, was trying to step on his foot The king was impassive as usual, his greying hair bound up behind the crown, but a hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth as the stranger strode up to the dais and knelt before the throne.

“Your Majesty,” he said, in a voice that sounded just a little familiar for some reason. “I have returned bearing the good wishes of Azymondias, dragon king of Xadia and royal friend of Katolis.”

“We accept the good wishes of our royal brother Azymondias and offer our own in return,” said King Harrow formally. “And we welcome you back to Katolis, Prince Callum.”

Wait.

What?

“My son,” said the king, dropping the formal tone as he rose from the throne and held out his arms. “Callum, welcome home.” 

Wait,  _ what? _

The stranger— _ Prince Callum _ —rose and stepped forward into the king’s embrace, returning it warmly. He was of a height with the king now, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist.

“It’s good to be back, Father,” he was saying, when Prince Ezran yelled _ “Cal” _ and flung himself at his father and brother.

Callum gave a shout of joy.

“Ez!” he exclaimed. “My god, look at how tall you are!” He ruffled the crown prince’s hair affectionately. “Still causing trouble?”

Prince Ezran gave Callum one of the guileless blue stares that were infamous around the castle.

“Who, me?” he asked innocently. “Forget that, look at how tall  _ you _ are! Look at your  _ hair! _ ” He gestured to the dark waves of Callum’s hair, falling past his shoulders and pulled back in a loose tail, braids weaving in and out. 

Soren swallowed. His mouth was weirdly dry all of a sudden. 

“Boys, boys,” said King Harrow, interrupting. It looked as if ten years of age had been lifted from his face as he stood looking at the princes together. “There will be plenty of time for catching up later. No doubt the rest of the Xadian delegation would like to say their piece.”

“Oh, right,” said Callum, ducking his head a little. A flush dusted his cheeks. 

“Sorry,” said Prince Ezran, not looking particularly sorry, and he led his brother back to the spot to the right of the throne where he had been standing earlier. They passed Soren and Claudia on the way, and as they did, Prince Callum’s gaze flicked to the side, catching Soren’s eyes. Then he smiled, clear green eyes crinkling upwards in pleasure, and lifted a hand in greeting. The smile, and the gesture, went straight to Soren’s stomach, which promptly dove somewhere down around his shiny ceremonial greaves. 

“Oh god,” he said softly in horror. “Step-prince got  _ hot. _ ” 

::

“Soren.” A pause.  _ “Soren,” _ said Claudia forcefully, punctuating with an elbow to Soren’s side right where there was a gap between his plate armor. 

“Gah,” said Soren. “What?”   


“Uh, the ceremony is over,” said Claudia in her most obnoxious  _ isn’t it obvious  _ tone. “Are you coming? Everyone’s wondering why you’re standing here like dope.” 

Soren had spent the remaining—minutes? Hours?  _ Days? _ —of the ceremony staring vacantly at the opposite wall in a sort of glazed panic while his mind circled like a trapped animal. 

“Yes,” he said firmly to Claudia. “I am leaving this place. And going to another place.” 

“Well, come _ on _ , then,” said Claudia. “I want to go say hi to Callum.” 

_ No! _ Soren wanted to shout, but his treacherous feet carried him obediently after Claudia.  _ It’ll be fine, _ he tried to reassure himself.  _ He probably wasn’t waving at me anyway. He was probably waving at Claudia. Yeah. She’s the one he had a crush on.  _ Somehow, this thought didn’t make him feel any better. His stomach hurt.

Claudia led them to one of the king’s private chambers, where Callum was being swarmed by what seemed like half the castle. 

“Did you miss me?” Prince Ezran was saying, dogging at his brother’s heels like he was a child of ten again instead of nearly full-grown. “I missed you, and Bait missed you too! How’s Zym? Wow, your hair looks just like Rayla’s!”

“Won’t you shut it for a minute,” said Rayla fondly, taking the crown prince by the shoulders and  moving him aside. “Let the rest of us have a chance.” She seized Callum in a bear hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. Something unpleasant twisted in Soren’s gut. Where did she get off doing that? Sure, they had bonded when they were off saving the kingdom together or whatever, but that didn’t mean Rayla could just—just  _ claim _ him like that. Plenty of people had known Callum loads longer than she had. Like Soren. Soren had known Callum for  _ ages. _

“Look at you!” Rayla cried, her Xadian burr coming out more strongly than usual. “You look like a proper elf in that getup!” 

“Haha, thanks,” said Callum, red faced, as Rayla set him back down on the ground. “It just seemed like the thing to do, you know? To show goodwill.” His narrow face was alight, with none of the perpetual cloud of self-consciousness that seemed to haunt him as a teenager. Rayla pounded him on the back enthusiastically as Claudia, no longer able to contain herself, burst in.

_ “Callum,” _ she said, seizing his hands. “You have  _ got _ to tell me all about what you learned.” 

Callum laughed without a single trace of awkwardness, pulling Claudia into an easy embrace. 

“It was amazing,” he said, eyes glowing. “You wouldn’t even believe some of the things I’ve seen. Xadia is—incredible.” And then he and Claudia were off in nerd land, talking a mile a minute about like, runes and spells and stuff. Callum looked Claudia in the eye the whole time, and didn’t stutter even once. They looked, Soren thoughtly bitterly, as if they had been best friends for years.

Then, to his horror, Callum pulled away from Claudia and started over towards  _ Soren _ .

“Soren,” said Callum, a wide smile on his face like he was actually  _ glad _ to see Soren. He held out a hand. “Long time no see.”

“Guh,” said Soren, his mind gone blank in the face of Callum’s stare. His eyes were  _ so _ green, especially against his newly sun-browned skin. “Huh—hi.” He realized Callum’s hand was still outstretched. He seized it gave his best manly handshake: firm but not too firm. “Yes. Hello. Prince Callum. Your Highness. Sir.”

Callum raised an eyebrow. 

“Soren, it’s me,” he said. “Have you forgotten all those times you dumped me on my ass during sword practice? You’ve been calling me ‘step-prince’ for about seven straight years.”

“Have I?” said Soren. He could hear his voice edging upward in pitch. “Haha. Weird! So weird. Am I right?”

“Yeah…” said Callum, and Soren realized with mortification their hands were still clasped. He yanked his away, praying it wasn’t too sweaty. 

“Anyway, I, uh,”  _ think, you idiot, think _ “I...have to go. Now. To do sword stuff. Immediately. So, uh, bye!” 

Soren did  _ not _ turn tail and run, because that was not what honorable soldiers did. He did stage a strategic retreat in the face of overwhelming enemy forces, however. 

The thought didn’t make him feel any better as he strode out of the room.

::

Claudia was pounding on his door.

“Soren, I know you’re in there,” she cried, voice muffled through the thick wood. “You can’t hide forever.”

“Go  _ away _ !” yelled Soren. He was slumped miserably in an armchair, his armor in a pile on the floor. 

There was a rattle as Claudia tried the door. 

“Is this locked?” Her voice went up an octave, incredulously. 

“I said go away!” Soren repeated. “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” That was an understatement. He wanted to sink into the stone floor and disappear forever so he didn’t have to relive the memory of totally humiliating himself in front of new, hot Prince Callum. 

“You don’t want to talk—“ began Claudia incredulously. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did somebody hex you in the two seconds I left you alone?”

“What—no!” shouted Soren. “Nobody hexed me!” 

“Well, you could have fooled me, the way you acted just now. You practically ran away from Callum! Is this some kind of male dominance thing? Are you feeling threatened?”

Soren stared in disbelief at the door. Apparently  _ Claudia _ was the one who had lost her mind. 

“No it’s not! Shut up and go away!”   

“You’re the commander of the guard, Soren, you can’t just lock yourself in your room forever. Do I have to break this door down? Because I’ll do it, you know!”

Soren remained mutinously silent. He heard her swear in a low voice, and then a muffled thump like she’d just kicked the door in frustration. Good. He hoped it hurt. Then, silence. She’d left. 

He heaved a sigh of relief. He’d been a little worried she  _ would _ break the door down, and then they’d both be in trouble with King Harrow. 

He was just contemplating the possibility of fleeing the kingdom to go live in the forest and eat bugs when there was a polite series of raps on the door. 

“Claudia, if you don’t quit it I’m going to turn your precious books into a bonfire!” 

“Oh, uh,” said a distinctly male voice from the other side of the door. “It’s me. Uh. Callum.” 

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no,  _ no. _

“Claudia asked me to check up on you,” continued the voice. “She said you weren’t feeling well.”

Claudia was officially dead to him. He no longer had a sister. He was an only child now. 

“Uhhhhhh,” said Soren, frantically trying to think of an excuse.

“Can I come in?”

It just got worse. He glanced despairingly at the window. Maybe if he took a running leap, he’d manage to be dead by the time he hit the ground. 

“Soren?” 

Soren gave up. If this was going to happen, it seemed like the only thing to do was lie down and accept it. He heaved a sigh. 

“Just a minute,” he said, unlatching the door and opening it with the feeling of a man facing the executioner’s sword. Prince Callum was outside, an expression of deep concern on his face. It was adorable. 

“Hey,” said the prince. “I hope I didn’t insult you with all that stuff earlier about the sword training.”

“No,” said Soren carefully. He had to watch himself, or he was going to say something he couldn’t take back. “No, no, it’s all good. I was just—“  _ bowled over with lust _ “startled because you look so”  _ hot _ “different, and I”  _ desperately want to jump your bones  _ “almost...didn’t...recognize you,” he finished weakly.

“Oh, yeah,” said Callum, running a hand through his hair with a little laugh. “I’ve been getting that a lot. Everyone’s saying I must have gotten Mom’s height.”

It was true, Queen Sarai had been tall and General Amaya was practically a giant, but that hadn’t been what Soren was referring to. 

“Uh-huh,” said Soren in what he hoped was a convincing tone. 

“Anyway,” said Callum. “You really don’t have to treat me any differently. I’m still your friend, after all.” 

“Right,” said Soren, his stomach sinking for an entirely different reason. “Friends.”

“Friends,” said Callum, teeth flashing as he clapped Soren warmly on the shoulder. 

::

“I said  _ no _ , Rayla.”

Soren paused as he passed under the archway to the practice yard, frozen mid-step. That was Prince Callum’s voice. Prince Callum, who Soren had been desperately avoiding for the last three days. He was getting some great cardio in from all the running away.

Soren looked longingly across the yard to the stables, where he was  _ trying _ to go. Maybe he could sneak around the edge if he stayed in the shadow. Callum and Rayla were in the center, facing away from him.

“Aw, come on, Callum,” said Rayla. “I haven’t had anyone to spar with properly in ages.”

Spar? Rayla and Callum? The only person who was a decent match for Rayla was General Amaya, and that was mostly due to the sheer brutal force she could bring to a fight. Soren himself could barely hold his own on a good day, and he’d been training with the sword since he was a boy. 

In spite of himself, Soren edged closer.

“I don’t see the point when I know I’ll lose,” Callum was saying. “You’ve had like ten years of training and I just learned a couple tricks so I wouldn’t be a complete deadweight on the road. You’ll wipe the floor with me. Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“So? It’ll be a learning experience. You can learn more from failure than you can from victory,” proclaimed Rayla.

“Are you quoting Runaan?” asked Callum. “That sounds like a Runaan thing.” 

“Please?” asked Rayla, ignoring him. “I’ll even take a handicap! I’ll use a single blade!”

“Just like old times,” said Callum dryly, and Rayla pointed at him accusingly.

“Hey!” she said. “Only  _ I _ get to make hand jokes.”

Callum’s eye roll spoke volumes. 

“Alright, fine,” he said. “Let’s spar.” 

“Attaboy,” said Rayla. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun!”

“I doubt it,” said Callum, as he walked over to a rack of practice swords and selected one, hefting it experimentally. Soren hastily ducked behind a stack of hay bales to stay out of his line of sight. “Man, using a straight sword feels so weird now. I’m not sure if I can do it.” He adjusted his grip and gave the blade a couple swings. Soren felt his breath catch in his throat. Callum’s movement was surprisingly fluid, the sword like an extension of his arm. Not expert but...purposeful. Studied. 

Rayla was already waiting and ready with her practice blade in the center of the yard when Callum finished.

“Ready when you are,” she said, rolling her neck out. 

“Let’s get this over with,” said Callum, shifting his stance so his legs were spread. Rayla grinned with a flash of teeth, and they were off.

She didn’t go all out on Callum at first; instead she darted forward and back, testing his defense. Callum didn’t startle like Soren thought he might, or trip over his own feet like the old Callum would have. He kept a careful guard up and didn’t try anything fancy, just used the practice blade to ward off the blows from Rayla’s sword. His blocks were solid and well-timed. 

“Not bad,” said Rayla, not even sounding out of breath. “You’ve learned the basics well.” 

Wisely—in Soren’s opinion—Callum didn’t respond, instead feinting to the right and attempting to hook Rayla’s weapon out of her hand with the tip of his sword. She merely flipped it in her grip and swiped at him backhanded. Callum ducked in one quick motion, pivoting so he came up outside the range of Rayla’s swing. 

He was fighting like a Xadian too, Soren realized, his style a weaker and more unpracticed echo of the one Rayla used. Even his grip on the Katolian-style sword was more reminiscent of the handling for a curved Xadian blade. 

Soren didn’t think he’d ever found swordplay so attractive. 

Rayla, apparently tiring of amateur hour, was attacking in earnest now, using her superior speed and reflexes to push Callum off-balance. He was panting and sweating, his swings slower and blocks not quite as true. In one last gambit, he feinted to the right again, pressing forward and trying for the disarm.

“You just did that, idiot,” muttered Soren to himself. “Don’t repeat yourself.” 

Rayla, clearly realizing this, swung flawlessly into her backhanded counterattack with a vengeance. Callum ducked under it, feinted  _ again _ and came up inside Rayla’s arm instead of outside, switching his sword to his other hand and striking  _ hard _ against Rayla’s crossguard. Soren barely had time to draw breath in astonishment before Rayla levered his own momentum back against him and popped the sword out of his hand as neatly as shelling a pea. 

Callum stumbled back and sat down in the dirt, breathing hard.

“Damn,” he said, leaning back on his palms. “I thought I almost had it.” 

“You weren’t bad,” conceded Rayla, with the smug superiority of someone confident that her status as “best at freaky elf martial arts” was unchallenged. “You shouldn’t have switched hands. Your left still isn’t as strong as your right.” 

“I know,” said Callum, grimacing and flexing his wrist. “I felt it.” 

“See?” said Rayla, offering him a hand up. “Learning experience.” 

“Suppose so,” admitted Callum as she hauled him to his feet. 

“Thanks for humoring me, Cal,” said Rayla warmly, and leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. 

Soren’s breakfast turned to stone in his belly. He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but in the stupid practice yard. Forgetting about the stables, he turned and made his way back towards the castle, cheeks hot. 

::

He started spending a lot of time up on ramparts, either running laps or just sitting there hucking rocks over the edge. Mainly as a method to avoid Callum, but also a method to avoid Claudia, who kept giving him narrow-eyed speculative glances whenever she surfaced from whatever fascinating magic problem she was in the middle of that day. He wasn’t actually worried about her finding  _ out _ —Claudia was not the most perceptive when it came to other people’s feelings, and that was coming from Soren—but there was the off-chance she’d annoy him into blurting something out and  _ then _ he’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh—I didn’t realize anyone was up here.” 

Soren, who had been sitting on one of the battlements idly kicking his legs out into space, nearly pitched face-first off the edge.

“Callum!” he said, completely unable to control the way his voice went up half an octave. “Hey man! What’s up!”

“Not much,” said  _ Prince Callum _ , _ damn _ it, was he  _ everywhere? _ His hair was tied back in a low tail, little wisps blowing around his face in the brisk wind. “Mind if I join you?”

_ Yes! _ screamed Soren’s mind. 

“No,” said Soren’s mouth. 

“Thanks,” said Callum, hopping up on the battlements beside Soren, to all appearances settling down for an extended stay. Soren wracked his brain desperately for some kind of excuse. Maybe if he were very lucky, elves would try to assassinate the king again and he could leave with dignity intact. 

He was in the middle of fabricating an urgent sword practice he had to get to when Callum spoke.

“I never appreciated this when I was younger,” he said, completely disrupting Soren’s thoughts.

“Huh?” asked Soren, looking around. Was there something he missed?    


“You know, this,” said Callum, gesturing. Soren followed the sweep of his arm outward, beyond the castle walls. It was the same familiar scenery, a rolling green carpet woven with roads bright in the afternoon sun. Here and there there were tiny figures moving around like ants. Soren knew it all like the back of his hand. “The view. I never really paid attention before, but now I can’t seem to get enough of it.” 

“Oh,” said Soren. “Yeah, it’s...pretty cool, I guess. You must’ve seen some crazy stuff when you traveled to Xadia, though. Like...volcanoes and stuff.”

_ Volcanoes and stuff? Nice going, genius. Real articulate. _

“That’s true,” said Callum. “But I think I like this best.” 

“I...don’t understand,” said Soren, because he didn’t. 

“Xadia was amazing,” said Callum simply. “But I was also so homesick that I cried myself to sleep for probably the first week I was there.” 

“Wait, what?” said Soren, forgetting to avoid Callum’s gaze in his shock. “Why? I thought you  _ wanted _ to go and learn all that magic stuff!”

Callum just laughed. 

“I missed Katolis,” he said simply. “I missed Dad and Ez. Up until then, Ez and I had never really been… _ apart _ , you know. For real. We’d always done everything together. Not having him with me was like...missing a limb, or something.”

Soren thought about what it would be like to move to another country and leave Claudia behind in Katolis, and came to the conclusion that wow, that would really suck. It was true, she was a real pain in the ass sometimes, but he was  _ used _ to her. It would be just weird if she weren’t around anymore. 

“Huh,” he said. “I never would have thought of it like that. But yeah, I get it.” 

“But, well, I got over it,” said Callum. “There was so much to do, so much to learn that I sort of forgot to be homesick after a while. But Katolis is my home. If anything, that was the most important thing that Xadia taught me. To not take all this—” he waved his arm, encompassing the fields and forests sprawled out beneath them “—for granted.” He glanced sidelong at Soren. “I missed you too, you know.”

Soren nearly fell off the battlements for the  _ second _ time.

_ And what a way to go that would have been, _ he thought slightly hysterically. 

“Uh, what,” he said, regaining his balance. “You mean...Claudia, right? You missed Claudia? Cause you know, you were, err.” 

Callum’s brow wrinkled. 

“What—oh, are you talking about that giant crush I used to have on her?” he asked. “Nah, Claudia’s like...my weird older sister or something. She’s great, but I think that whole thing was basically due to hormones and the fact she was the only girl our age I knew.” 

“Ahhhh,” said Soren, trying his best to project “casual interest” and not “I think I might be having a heart attack”. “So, uh, Rayla then?” 

_ What are you doing, _ he shrieked at himself.  _ Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, dumbass! _

Callum laughed again. It was very inconvenient, the way he threw his head back to expose the long line of his throat, his eyes sparkling.

“I guess you haven’t noticed, then,” he said. “Her and Ez?” 

“Wait, sorry,” said Soren, abruptly thrown off track by this unexpected bit of information. “The Crown Prince and Rayla?” 

“They’re attached at the hip,” said Callum with a fond smile. “Ez adores Rayla, he has for years, but he’s worried she sees him as a kid. Haven’t you seen how he’ll play tricks on everybody  _ but  _ her? He sent me a letter a few months ago asking if growing a beard would make him look more mature. And for her part, Rayla would rather die than let anything happen to him. She’s positive she’s the only one capable of keeping him safe.”

It was true that Rayla had essentially appointed herself Prince Ezran’s personal guard, but Soren had always figured that was because of some, like, elf code of honor or something. 

“Huh,” he said again. He honestly couldn’t say that he bothered at all with the personal lives of pretty much anyone in the castle. He was a guard. His job was guarding, not…romance. 

“So yeah, Rayla’s my best friend, but she’s not my type,” Callum was saying, and Soren snapped back to attention and made a noise of agreement. “I prefer the beefier type, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” said Soren.

“Someone who’s more brawn than brain,” continued Callum. 

“Mmhmm,” said Soren. 

“A little bit of a bad boy, but one who has a good heart.”

“Wait, like me?” said Soren, and then his brain caught up to his ears and he went hot and cold all over. “Oh fuck.” 

Callum was watching him with calm interest, a slight smile on his lips.

Soren opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He closed it. 

“I can explain,” he said. “Actually, no I can’t. Actually, who told you?” 

“Nobody,” said Callum easily. “Time just puts a lot of things into perspective, and I had a lot of material to work with. Years of pigtail-pulling, for one.”

“Pigtail-pulling?” asked Soren, and then, in disbelief:  _ “Years?” _ A horrifying thought occurred to him. “Is  _ that _ what I was doing?”

“Well, I can’t speak for you, of course,” said Callum, eyes twinkling, “but that’s what it looked like from my perspective at least.”

“But—you were such a nerd!” cried Soren. 

Callum shrugged. 

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” he said. The side of his mouth was twitching. 

“And I was mean to you!” 

“Like I said,” said Callum. “No accounting for taste.”

Soren stared at him blankly. His head was starting to hurt. 

“You mean you—with me? Like, you and me?”

“Okay,” said Callum. “I had a plan for this but I think we’re going to go ahead and skip forward a couple steps.” Before Soren could ask him what the  _ hell _ he meant by that, Callum was leaning forward and then his mouth was on Soren’s, gentle but insistent. 

_ “Oh,”  _ said Soren, everything coming together in a warm, bright rush. “I get it now.”

“About time,” said Callum with exaggerated relief. “I was getting a bit worried there.”

“Hey, shut up,” said Soren, and it was his turn to lean over and kiss Callum, albeit with significantly more enthusiasm. This time they both almost fell off the roof. 

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” said Soren breathlessly when they both back on solid ground. “I really don’t want to fall to my death right now.” 

“I could’ve used magic to catch us,” said Callum. “Probably.” 

“Yeah, I’m not taking that chance when there’s a perfectly good bedroom right below us,” said Soren. “Wait, was that too soon? In my defense, I’ve had a very stressful few days and I’m kinda on edge right now.”

Callum grinned at him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Why don’t we find out?” 

::


End file.
